


"It's a good thing to do and a tasty way to do it."

by Ineffabilitea



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: blanketforts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-01
Updated: 2006-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 20:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineffabilitea/pseuds/Ineffabilitea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erotic porridge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"It's a good thing to do and a tasty way to do it."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **blanketforts** 2006 first prompt: New Year's hangovers. Apologies to Quaker Oats and Wilford Brimley for the title. I owe **tiriel_35** for the erotic porridge.

Sirius groaned as the door to the bedroom opened to reveal painfully bright light and a Remus who was, sickeningly, almost as cheerful as the sunshine, carrying a breakfast tray.

"Welcome to 1979, Padfoot. Breakfast?" Remus at least had the decency to speak quietly, but at the very word 'breakfast' Sirius' stomach rebelled and he rolled over and clutched at the pillow, covering his eyes with the back of his left hand in a gesture that, he had to acknowledge, was possibly ever-so-slightly melodramatic.

"Don't mention food, Moony. I may never eat again."

"Nonsense, Pads. It's only porridge, in any case. Completely inoffensive to even the most upset of stomachs."

Sirius nearly retched. "I can't even imagine eating porridge right now. That horrible goopy texture- it'd be like eating my own sick. Now go away, before thinking about it makes me actually vomit."

"Your devoted boyfriend brings you breakfast in bed and you won't even try it? I'm hurt."

"If my boyfriend was so devoted, he'd be just as hungover as I was."

"I can't help it if I'm both devoted _and_ sensible enough to not drink two bottles of champagne and two gin and tonics on my own before inexplicably capping off my evening with a Guinness or three."

"Don't say the name! That foul beverage is never entering this flat again."

"This must be one hell of a hangover, to put you off Guinness." Remus sat down on the edge of the bed, setting the tray down, and began to gently rub circles on Sirius' back. Sirius decided to forgive him for bringing the foul porridge closer.

"Now that's more like a devoted boyfriend. But no matter how many circles you rub on my back, there's no way you can make that porridge appetizing enough for me to eat it."

"What if I told you it has brown sugar? And cinnamon? And little bits of apple?"

"More boyfriend bonus points, redeemable for a wide range of prizes at a later date. But still no porridge consumption."

"C'mon Pads, please? You won't feel better until you eat." Remus put on his best imitation of Sirius' patented puppy face, which didn't really suit him, Sirius thought.

"No way."

Suddenly, worryingly, the look on Remus' face changed from pleading to mischievous. Normally this was Sirius' favourite expression to see on Remus, but this morning he really didn't think he was up for whatever it promised.

"I think I know what will tempt your tongue," Remus said, looking positively lascivious. He stood up. "Roll over."

"Was that meant to be a dog joke? Because I think I'm too hungover to have a sense of humour."

"No, really, roll over. I want you on your back to watch this."

The undeniably sexual note of command in this last bit made Sirius obey without thinking. That tone in Remus' voice had never brought him anything but good things from the very first time he had heard it in a broom closet seventh year. Indeed, when he turned onto his back he was greeted by the sight of Remus already shirtless, clad only in low-slung pyjama botttoms. Knowing Remus, those really were all he was wearing; nothing underneath. Sirius felt a stirring in his own pyjama bottoms that indicated not all of him was feeling poorly.

Remus picked up the bowl of porridge, used the spoon to give it a stir, then pulled the spoon out and licked it clean, pink tongue moving in and out, savoring every last speck of oatmeal, then licking his lips to make sure he hadn't missed any.

"If you won't eat your porridge, I suppose I shouldn't let it go to waste." He took another spoonful, but this time unaccountably missed his mouth, causing oatmeal to dribble down the corner of his mouth, over his chin and onto his chest, where it landed a mere centimetre from his right nipple.

"Oops. How messy I am." Remus's tongue darted out to lick up the porridge at the corner of his mouth. "I'm afraid I can't reach the rest. Would you do me a favour and get it for me?"

Sirius now found it no great hardship to sit up, despite the pounding in his head. "Come over here so I can reach it," he said. When Remus leaned in close, Sirius carefully cleaned the porridge off his neck, kissing more than licking it off, then transferred his attentions to the nipple, licking perhaps more than was strictly necessary to remove the goop. It was quite good porridge, he thought; the brown sugar made it quite sweet and Remus had added just the right amount of cream.

"Time for another spoonful," Remus announced. This one hit the other nipple and made a gloppy trail down towards his navel. Again, Sirius was obliged to clean up these hard-to-reach areas.

Most of the next spoonful mysteriously found its way under the waistband of Remus' pyjamas. Sirius did his best to lick up what he could of it, but soon found something even tastier to distract him from the pretense.

"Oh god, Sirius. Don't stop, please don't stop, oh-" Sirius happily noted that Remus' increasingly loud groans and cries didn't seem to be aggravating his now-diminishing headache.

A few minutes later, as he allowed Remus time to recover, Sirius seriously considered eating the rest of the porridge. Now that he had had a few bites, his appetite had returned in full force, as it always did after a night of drinking. Unfortunately, it appeared that Remus had at some point stuck his hand in the bowl, and Sirius had the sneaking suspicion that the odd sensation at the nape of his neck was an oatmeal handprint.

"Sorry," Remus said sheepishly, noting his gaze. "I can make you some more."

"S'alright. But now we're both all sticky."

"Don't complain, Pads. Oatmeal is good for your skin; it'll help you keep your youthful good looks. And besides, everyone knows the next best thing for a hangover, after food, is a long, hot shower."

"Oh, I feel much better already. I think you've discovered the perfect hangover cure."

"Porridge?"

"Nope." Sirius nipped Remus' earlobe gently. "Hair of the wolf that bit you."


End file.
